Harry Potter and the Caped Crusader
by Mario Quade
Summary: When Voldemort tries to steal an ancient artefact out of the Gotham Musem of Antiquities he gets into a confrontation with Batman, getting the world's greatest detective on his trail. And so Batman and his allies get involved in the Second Wizarding War. But how will this change its outcome?
1. Chapter 1: A Quick Visit to Gotham

Lord Voldemort was furious, beyond furious to be exact. Not only did Lucius give away his old diary and with that his very first Horcrux, simply to get back at Arthur Weasley. No, Karkaroff, the fool and traitor, had sold off one of his other powerful magical artefacts that was stored in the old and ancient seat of the house Black, 12 Grimmauld Place. To everybody who didn't know what it was, it looked like a vase from ancient Greek, but in reality it was a magical jar, which, according to legend, if united with it's twin piece, would release the power of the gods.

"And where is it now," he screamed to his remaining free Death Eaters. They all cowered before him, afraid of his rage.

Lucius, more than willing to redeem himself from his mistake with the diary, stepped forward. "My lord, we do not know, but if you let me, I'll find out and bring it back to you," he offered and bowed down before his master.

Voldemort looked at his follower with contempt, but he also knew that out of all his present followers, Lucius was probably the most resourceful out of his Death Eaters and would have it easier to find the vase than anybody else. "Good, in that case," he said slowly with a smarmy smile on his face.

Lucius raised his head in hope but tried to display any of it on his face, even though he knew that his master was the greatest Legilimes of all time and if he wanted to, he would see all of his emotions at once. "Thank you for your confidence my lord," he simply said. "I won't disappoint you."

"I hope for your sake you won't," Voldemort hissed, not even remotely trying to hid his anger from Lucius previous failures.

Lucius bowed again and withdraw with his head down. After this business was done, their master asked all but Severus Snape to leave. At once Lucius got to the next fireplace and travelled back to his home to change into his best clothes – he had a visit at the ministry to conduct.

* * *

About an hour later Lucius stepped out of one of the fireplaces at the entrance hall of the ministry. When a member of the security staff tried to stop him in order to submit to the normal security procedure, he gave him a stern glare, and after that didn't stop him, he berated the young man. "Don't you know who I am," he asked angrily. The security officer didn't know what to say. "I'm Lucius Malfoy and I'm a personal friend of the minister," he proclaimed in an arrogant way and stared at the man with an extremely piercing look.

"I'm – I'm sorry," the man stuttered.

Lucius didn't say anything else and simply moved on. He also didn't care for all these other onlookers who shook their head in disbelieve over his arrogance, nor did he care, that, when he had already crossed the hall, the boss of the young man berated him as well, because he let a civilian through just like that.

Lucius entered one of the lifts and drove down to the office of the Public Information Service, since data about the trade of artefacts. Even though the vase was not known to be magical, it was an ancient piece of art and would probably be registered anyway. At least that was what Lucius gambled upon. When he entered the office of the PIS he didn't greet anybody and immediately went through to the personal office of the head of the service, Camille Clarke, a plump witch of clear African decent with short black hair which she had bewitched to show blond strands at random in between. "Ah, Lucius," she greeted her guest with an happy voice, even though he knew it was all fake. "What can I do for you?"

Clarke offered him one of the seats in front of her desk and Lucius gladly sat down. "I need to know if you have documents about the sell of an ancient vase from ancient Greek, around 800 B.C.," he explained and got out a photo out of one of his pockets, which showed the vase.

Clarke looked at the picture and nodded. "Was it yours?"

Lucius shook his head. "No, it belonged to the family of my dear wife."

"The Balcks?"

This time Lucius gave a tight nod. "Yes. It was stolen over a decade ago. I don't know from whom, but until now we didn't realise, since we hadn't been to her old childhood home that often. But we were there at the beginning of the summer, after we heard rumours that Sirus Black was back in the country," he explained.

"Why," asked Clarke a bit irritated.

"Well, we were afraid that he might get to old goods in family possession and sell them on the black market to make money for himself."

This explanation seemed to satisfy Clarke, for the most part at least. "I can understand that, but why do you think that it wasn't stolen now but already over ten years ago?"

Lucius smiled a lazy smile. "According to the house elf the vase went missing in late 1981 after the house as been abandoned due to – well known reasons." The facial features of his opposite told him that he finally convinced her of his story.

"Okay, did it have any magical abilities," Clarke asked.

"No, but I hoped that, since it is an ancient artefact, it would have been registered anyway, if it surfaced since then."

Clarke nodded. "I doubt it, but I'll look into it anyway," she said. Lucius thanked her and stood up, but Clarke stopped him from leaving. "And you really should go to the law enforcement."

"I know, but I doubt that the thief will be caught after all these years," he said politely, before saying goodbye a second time and leaving Clarke's office.

* * *

A few days later Lucius got called back to Clarke's office. "I guess you have found something," he asked hopefully but clam.

Clarke nodded. "It was sold to a collector of Greek and Roman art in 1985 from some rich wizard from Russia."

"And what's his name," Lucius asked.

"Noel Benton," Clarke answered. "But it won't do you any good."

"Why not?"

"Because he sold it again. To an American collector by the name of Mark Garnett."

Lucius sighed. He hadn't intended to travel across the pond to the United States, but it seemed like he had to. "Thank you," he said, a bit disappoint.

As he was standing up, Clarke told him to sit down again. "I called in a favour from a colleague of mine at the American Institute of Arts. According to her, Garnett died two months ago in a car crash. He had no family so his belongings were given to the Gotham Museum of Antiquities," she explained.

Lucius frowned. "Never heard of it."

Clarke let out a little laugh. "Of course not, it's a muggle museum."

Lucius face fell and he went even whiter than normally. An artefact that belonged to the Dark Lord was held at a dirty muggle museum in the United States of America? His master wouldn't be pleased with this news. "Well, that complicates the matter," he said.

"Don't worry, I bet, once you can proof to the American Ministry that the vase belongs to the family of your wife and was stolen, they'll help you to get it back from the museum," Clarke replied.

Lucius nodded and forced a smile back on his face. "Of course," he said and stood up again. "Thank you, again," he told her and left her office, not trying to look like he was in a hurry.

* * *

His report went over exactly as Lucius has feared it would. Voldermot was angry, more than angry. He had to stop himself to use the Cruciatus Curse on Lucius, but he destroyed a picture on the wall in his hiding place, blasted two chairs to shreds and used another shock curse on Lucius anyway. "I can still try to get it back my lord. But it'll take time and the help of the American Ministry of Magic," Lucius begged.

He was again hit by a curse of his master. "No," his voice boomed through the room. "I want this vase now Lucius, do you understand? Now! And I don't want any dirty muggle hands on it!"

Lucius laid on the floor in front of his master, shaking with fear that he might get hit with an unforgivable curse next. "Please master, I could always steal it for you," he begged.

"Silence!," roared Voldemort and this time he used the Cruciatus Curse on his follower. "I'll go there myself," he proclaimed and left the room, with a whimpering Lucius left lying on the floor. "Such an priceless artefact in the hands of muggles," Voldemort muttered angrily to himself. "What an imbecile would give any of his possessions to this kind of filth," he wondered out loud. He then summoned Snape and Wormtail and gave them the order to look after Nagini while he was gone. Not surprisingly Snape asked where he was going, but immediately backed down and apologised when Voldemort told him, that it was none of his business. And of the Dark Lord was, to the dark city of Gotham.

* * *

Gotham was both beautiful and rundown at the same time. The centre of the city and the southern suburbs were rather beautiful and shined with wealth. The harbour, the northern parts and strangely enough the western suburbs were crime ridden, gloomy regions, that nobody would ever go to if he or she didn't have to. But Voldemort didn't care for all of this. He only cared for his vase.

When he had gotten to Gotham it was still afternoon, and he decided that he would go get the vase back at night time, when it was less likely to have witnesses and get the American Ministry on his trail. For now he wanted to stay undetected. Not that he really cared, but the fact that Fudge denied his return gave him way more free hand in his decisions than if the Aurors were already after him. But he already decided that he should check out the museum first before going to break into it at night, before he even went to Gotham. He ordered Snape to brew him some polyjuice potion, which he took with him, and when he finally got to Gotham, he kidnapped the first best man on the street, killed him, took his clothes and put his hair into the polyjuice. In this disguise he entered the museum and tried to locate the vase. He found out it was part of an exhibition on the Greek Dark Ages, which was held on the sixth floor of the museum.

It was past eleven p.m. when Voldemort finally decided it was time to get the vase. He apparated silently onto the sixth floor of the museum, right next to the vase. Before he could get his wand out in order to dismantle the nearly useless muggle security measurements, he heard a loud bang. Startled he turned around and finally realized that there was siren sound coming from outside. Slowly approaching the windows, he saw red and blue lights down in the streets. _I must have stumbled into a muggle break-in_ , he reasoned. He shook his head and turned back to the vase. It was of no matter. No muggle could stop him from getting what he wanted. And if he had to kill either the police or the robbers, he didn't care. He finally got his wand out and muttered an incarnation which switched off the alarm system on the vase's case.

Just as Voldemort was about to use another curse to crush the glass case, he heard something behind him. As he turned around, wand still drawn, just as he thought he felt something inside him warning him that he was being watched. But he couldn't see anything and if either the robbers or the police would be on his floor, he would already have notice it moments ago. For a short while he mused it could be a security guard, but he dismissed the thought nearly immediately. A security guard would have called attention to himself at once. So he turned around to the glass case, only to stare into a rather intimidating side.

A tall and muscular man was standing before him. But that wasn't the intimidating part, that was his costume. He wore a black cape, a grey bodysuit, black boots and gloves, a yellow belt, and a black mask that looked like a bat on his face. _How did he get here_ , Voldemort asked himself, and wasted precious time with this.

The man opposite of him already reacted and grabbed Voldemort's wand arm. Before Voldemort could do anything, the other man applied pressure to it, enough pressure to make it hurt, and then, out of nowhere, he punched Voldemort in the face, which caused the Dark Lord to fall onto his back. "You should have deactivated the motion sensors on the ground first," he said in a very deep voice.

Voldemort was angry, very angry. He couldn't sense one ounce of magic in this man, and he wasn't to get schooled by a muggle. But once again, the other man was faster than he was. He stepped onto his wand arm and gave him a cold and piercing look, at least Voldemort thought he was, since he couldn't see the eyes of the man, which were covered by some kind of glasses. But if there was eye contact, he could use it, and in a swift motion, he tried to establish a link to his opponent's mind. _Nobody can defend himself against my legilimency skills!_

"I would prefer you not poking around my head," growled the other man and kicked Voldemort in the head.

Voldemort hissed in pain. _How could a muggle withstand my legilimency attempts_ , he wondered as his opponent stepped off of him and picked up his wand. "Mmh, a wizard," he muttered, looking at the wand.

The Dark Lord used this opportunity. He stood up, collected his thoughts again and conducted the summoning charm in his mind, which caused his wand to fly out of the hands of the stranger and into his own. "Avada Ke...," before he could finish the killing curse, he was knocked to the ground by his opponent and the curse hit the ceiling, leaving a black mark there.

The man in the bat costume knocked the wand out of Voldemort's hand again and then grabbed the noseless wizard at the collar, dragging him up and pinning him to the wall. "English, South London I presume," he deduced.

Voldemort had no idea how to react to his, for a second he let his guard down before he collected his thoughts again. He could try to dive into his man's mind again, but somehow he had the feeling that it wouldn't work so easily. So he decided to ask the question burning on his mind. "Who are you?"

The face of the other man became even harder, if that was possible, and for once Voldemort was clad that he couldn't see another man's eyes. "I'm Batman," came the answer in a deep, cruel and frighting growl. "And who – are – you?"

Somehow Voldemort could see Batman knitting his brows behind his mask and he became a pretty good feeling of the fire that burned in the eyes of this man, and somehow it made him feel at least a little bit scared. _How was this muggle making me feel scared?_ "None of your business, dirty muggle," Voldermot spit back. He was the Dark Lord after all, he was the most powerful wizard of all time, and no dirty worthless muggle could overcome him. He mustered up all his anger and tried again to peek into the man's mind. And as soon as Batman realised this, he banged his head against Voldemort's, which took the dark wizard out of the moment.

Batman than sucker punched Voldemort in the face, threw him around, punched him in the face again, and then threw him to the ground. Batman gritted his teeth. "What did I tell you about poking around in my mind," he growled angrily.

Voldemort felt something creeping up in him, something he had only felt when he had fought Dumbledore in the past: The fear of losing this confrontation. But how was that even possible? He was the master of the dark arts, the most powerful wizard of all time, and had mastered immortality. But now, somehow, he was pinned to the ground by a muggle in a bat-costume, who called himself Batman, and somehow had enough restrain and control about his mind to detected legilimency.

Voldemort stared at Batman again, angry with the other man and with himself, but this time he didn't try to delve into his opponent's mind, he wasn't exactly keen on getting hit again. Instead he tried to confuse him, while using wandless magic. To summon chains out of thin air with only the power of your mind and to control them was hard, but Voldemort was indeed one of the most powerful and talented wizards to ever walk the earth, in present times maybe really only equalled by Albus Dumbledore, so he knew he could manage to do it. But somehow Batman felt that something was off, even before the chains began to wrap themselves around his body. He manages to grab for his belt, but this time, he was too slow. The chains engulfed him and rendered him immobile.

Voldemort stood up and laughed a shrill laugh. "Now, Batman," he giggled, holding out his hand and summoning his wand into it, "it's over." But before Voldemort could perform the killing curse, he heard foot steps coming from the staircase.

"Batman," asked a male voice in a worried tone. Voldemort looked up and saw a plain dressed man in a trench coat with greying, but still reddish hair and moustache. As soon as the man had spotted Voldemort and Batman he got out his gun and yelled; "GCPD, drop your weapon!"

Voldemort sneered and began to laugh. He stopped pointing his wand at Batman and instead at the policeman who just came into the room. But before he could perform his spell to kill the man, he was hit by something, which made him loose his wand once again. This something turned out to be a metallic-red coloured boomerang in a weird form that somewhat looked like a bird, which came from Voldemort's right. The dark wizard turned around and spotted another masked figure approaching. Unlike Batman he hadn't had his entire face covered by a black mask, but still enough to be hard to identify with met without it, and his costume was way more colourful. He wore a dark green bodysuit, similar coloured gloves, and a dark red armour over it, that covered his upper-buddy. The only two things his costume had in common with Batman's were the black boots and and his black cape.

Angrily Voldemort gritted his teeth, summoned his wand once again (which he lost way too often for his own taste during this battle) and took a look around. Whoever the other, way younger masked man was, he looked really pissed at him and was probably not to fool around with either, but Voldemort could probably have taken him out without much problem at this very moment, but he still would have to deal with the policeman, who pointed his gun at him. Of course Voldemort could take him out as well, but the question was, how fast the other one would react. So he decided that he had to use close-space apparation, which was very dangerous, in order to get the upper hand once again.

Before either one of the two newcomers could react, Voldemort had disappeared and reappeared behind the policeman, pointing his wand at the other man's head. Voldemort laughed and was about to again perform the killing curse, when Batman said something; "Nice trick," after which he threw himself to the ground.

At first Voldemort had no idea, why he had done this, but then he had to apparate, again. Somehow Batman had manage to gain enough freedom to get a gadget out of his belt and to throw it in Voldemort's direction. Just as Voldemort reappeared again, now on the other side of the policeman, the gadget exploded in a puff of smoke and Batman yelled "duck" to the officer, who of course obeyed, which made Voldemort a free target for the other masked man, who immediately threw his boomerang a second time at the dark wizard.

With a flick of his wand Voldemort made the boomerang disappear into thin air, but this distraction was all the policeman had needed in order to turn around and to throw his entire mass against Voldemort's body, bringing him to the ground. The Dark Lord was now lying on the ground with a policeman pointing a gun at his face. _This simply can't be true,_ he thought to himself. He apparated again, this time to the other end of the room, irritating his opponents, and buying himself enough time to get up again. Raising his wand he simply pointed it at the glass case protecting the vase. He blasted the glass away, apparated forward, grabbed the vase, and disapparated once again, this time far away from this place. The last thing he saw was that Batman somehow had managed to completely free himself from his magical chains.

Voldemort never knew it, but had he only disapparated a second later, he would have been hit by three bullets and two Batarangs at once, which would have, of course, killed him and ripped his remaining soul from his body for a second time.


	2. Chapter 2: The Secret of the Vase

While the fight in Gotham was going on, Harry Potter was sleeping in his bed at Number 4 Pivet Drive. It was an uneasy sleep. Like every night he relived again and again how Wormtail had killed Cedric, how Voldemort had risen from the dead, and how he barely escaped him once again. But then, out of nowhere, a jolt of pain and anger flooded through Harry. He didn't know what it was or meant, but suddenly he sat upright in his bed. His scar burnt. Somehow he once again felt like he had a connection to Voldemort. And Voldemort was angry. At what he didn't know, but the longer the feeling lingered, the hotter became the pain, the more obvious it became that Voldemort, right now, was going towards reaching a for Harry unknown level of blind rage. It began to hurt so much that Harry nearly began to cry, and then, out of nowhere, the pain was gone. Harry fell down on his bed again, trying to fall asleep once more, but the sleep didn't wanna come. It didn't help that it was still midsummer and that the sun was about to come out soon. After rolling around in his bed for several minutes, Harry finally decided to get up. He walked over to his window and looked outside on the street. Was Voldemort near? Were his Death Eaters? Harry had asked himself these questions for over four weeks now, since he had been back with the Dursleys. He had tried to get information about what was going on in the wizarding world from nearly everybody by now, but nobody seemed to be willing to give him a straight answer. Frustrated Harry continued to stare out of the window, not knowing that Voldemort had just made a very powerful and resourceful enemy, who he would underrate even more than he did Harry.

* * *

Back in Gotham City, some time had pasted since the confrontation in the museum. Batman and Robin were just returning to the Batcave, where Alfred was already waiting for them. "I've copied and downloaded the recordings of the security cameras of the museum as you wanted, Master Bruce," he told them as they left their vehicles.

"Thank you Alfred," replied Bruce, while taking of his mask. He then approached the Batcomputer and started playing the recording of what happened at room 3 of the 6th floor.

Alfred was especially surprised about what he saw, since Tim had already seen some the tricks the theft had up his sleeve. "Very unusual," he remarked.

"Very unusual indeed," agreed Bruce. "I haven't seen anything like this in quiet awhile."

This comment took Tim aback. "Moment, does that mean, you've seen people like this before," he unbelievingly asked his mentor while pointing at the noseless freak on the computer monitor.

"Not like this, no," Bruce admitted before going silent and simply staring at the screen until the recording was over. "I need a analogue copy of this," he told Alfred, who bowed and immediately began working on it. Bruce then turned to his protégé. "Go to bed, Tim," he told him. Tim was about to protest but Bruce held up his right hand to stop him. "I know what you are going to say, but I promise I'll explain everything in the morning," he said just as Alfred approached him with a disk in his hand.

"The copy, Master Wayne," he said, pointing out the obvious.

"Thank you," replied Bruce once again, like he had to do so often with his ever faithful butler. He then turned back to the teenager next to him. "'til later," he said, before ordering Alfred to make sure that Tim would go to bed.

"Where are you going," Tim called after the man who basically had become his father.

"Following up on a lead," was the only answer he got.

Tim wanted to ask another question, but he didn't got the chance. Bruce had already put his Batman mask back on, climbed into the Batmobil and closed the door. "I wanna come too," he said more to himself than to anybody else. Bruce started the engines of the Batmobil and drove out of the cave at once. Tim looked longingly after him. "It's not fair," he said to Alfred.

"It rarely is, Master Drake," the butler replied. "Now, we should go upstairs."

"Why?"

"Because there's nothing we can do down here," Alfred reasoned. "And I wanna go to bed," he then added while going up the stairs to Wayne Manor.

"But I don't wanna go to bed," Tim countered in a smug way, which was a little bit too smug for Alfred's liking.

The butler turned around on the stairs, staring at the young man still standing in the cave. Sometimes he reminded him of a young Bruce, which filled Alfred's heart with warmth, but in moments like this, he reminded him more of young master Grayson, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing since Alfred and the young Dick also had a pretty good relationship with one another, but they never had and never would form such a strong relationship as the old butler had with his actual employer. Also, Alfred remembered, that Dick was responsible for way more headaches than Bruce had been when he had been a teenager.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "If you wanna stay here, fine, but the TV is still standing upstairs," were Alfred's last comments before finally ascending the staircase.

Tim wanted to reply with something clever, but he couldn't really think of anything. After continuing to stand in the cave for a few minutes, he finally decided to change into his normal clothes and to go upstairs as well. He hated to admit it, but Alfred had been right – the TV sets were all upstairs. And the best one was to be found in the living room. Tim had no idea if he was going to watch a video or the normal programme, but he knew that he wouldn't really be able to sleep until he got some answers. So he saddled down on the big couch in the centre of the room and turned on the television, flipping through the channels, hoping to find something that could keep his attention until Bruce came back from wherever he had gone.

* * *

It didn't even take an hour for Batman to travel from Gotham to his destination: An old apartment building at the Broadway in Camden, very close to the border of New Jersey with Philadelphia. He entered the apartment of his informant through the previously closed bedroom window, just fast enough in order for Elli McCoy to be woken up by the breeze coming into her room.

Elli was a woman in her early 40s, but she looked as if she was about ten years younger. She had long brown-blond hair, green eyes and a nice tan, at least in that very moment. Startled by the sudden breeze, she sat up, got out her wand and used it to close her window, before muttering "lumos". Looking around in her room, it took her awhile until she discovered Batman. "You," she annoyingly moaned. "I had hoped not to have to see you again."

"I know," Batman replied in his signature deep voice. "I need information from you."

Elli raised one of her eyebrows in a sarcastic manner, before asking; "When did you ever come to me out of another reason?" Batman didn't react, he just continue to stand like a statue in the back corner of her room, causing Elli to roll her eyes and finally getting up. "Okay, what do you want to know?"

Batman got out the tape that Alfred made for him. "I need to know who the man on the tape is," he said. "He broke into the Gotham Museum of Antiquities a few hours ago and stole an antic vase from ancient Greek, dated to the later years of the younger half of the ninth century before Christ," he explained while handing the tape over to Elli.

"Why come to me with this?"

"Because the man had a wand and could apparate. Last time I checked, only wizards could do that," answered Batman in a matter-of-fact tone.

Elli had nothing to argue against, since everything Batman had said, was true. "Anything that might help me identify him?"

"He had a British accent and a face like a snake," was the reply and shock was written all over Elli's face at once. "What is it," Batman asked, concerned.

Elli manage to collect herself pretty quickly, considering the shock she just went through. "Nothing, it's nothing really. The description would only fit a criminal that died fourteen years ago," she explained.

Batman fixated her with a piercing look through his goggle-lenses. And like always, somehow, the person opposite knew and felt it, even though they could never see the eyes. Elli had to swallow hard, but she managed to keep her composure despite Batman's icy stare. "Okay," he finally said. "I'll be back tomorrow." And with those words he was gone, leaving Elli alone to pander her thoughts.

* * *

When Tim woke up the next morning he wasn't laying on the couch in the living room anymore, the last place he could remember being, but instead he lay in his way more comfortable king-sized bed. He tried to figure out how he got there, concluding that the only reasonable explanation was, that he had fallen asleep in the living room, against his own will and prediction, and had then been carried upstairs by Bruce after he had gotten home.

A bit mad with himself for not managing to stay awake and with Bruce for not waking him up, Tim got out of bed and dozily walked into his bathroom in order to start his morning routine to get fresh for the upcoming day. When he went downstairs to the dining room, he could already hear Bruce and Alfred while he was still on the staircase. Like every morning Bruce wanted to convince Alfred to take break from pampering him and instead eat and drink something by himself.

"Alfred, I got this," Bruce argued, taking a plate right out of his butler's hands and put it down on the table before him. "You outdid yourself once again with this breakfast," he added as a compliment, which was followed by a tight "thank you" by Alfred. "Now, why don't you sit down and eat yourself before Tim comes...," Bruce stopped himself, sensing Tim's presence. "Too late," he then said with a lazy smile and looked up through the doorway into the entrance hall, where Tim was still standing on the staircase. "Care to join us," Bruce shouted out, before turning back to his breakfast.

Tim continued his way downstairs and entered the dinning room. "Morning," he greeted the two older men.

"What can I offer you, Master Drake," Alfred asked dutifully.

"Just some crispy toast with some bacon and a soda please," answered Tim before sitting down next to Bruce, looking at this mentor with a questioning look on his face. Bruce seemed to ignore him and instead continued reading his newspaper and eating his breakfast. After Alfred had served Tim his meal, the butler excused himself and left the dinning room. Tim continued to stare at his foster father, hoping for a reaction.

It took minutes till he finally got one. "What do you think he was," Bruce asked his roughly twenty years younger protégé.

"I don't know," Tim answered hesitantly. "A freak, that's for sure."

Bruce give a brief nod in agreement. "He certainly is," he mumbled in agreement, before finally laying down his newspaper and setting aside his cup of morning coffee, finally looking directly at Tim. "Would you believe if I told you, that magic is a real thing," he asked.

Tim's eyes widened, his mouth fell open and his facial expressions screamed "you gotta be kidding me" at first, but then he managed to regain his composer and reminded himself of the fact, that there were many strang things and people living in Gotham. Hell he had already met an alien who had nearly god-like powers and a demi-goddess who claimed to be the daughter of Zeus, so maybe the revelation that magic and wizards were real things shouldn't have come as such a surprise to Tim. "So, the man was a wizard," he finally asked.

Bruce nodded. "I think so. He used a wand and could apparate," he explained.

"Apparate?"

"Apparation is a meaning of magical travelling. A skilled wizard can, by sheer willpower, teleport himself from one place to another. Only that I've never seen it happen without a sound nor being conducted in an closed space. According to my knowledge the latter is supposed to be extremely dangerous."

"So, what do you reckon," Tim wanted to know.

Bruce slightly raised his eyebrows and broke eye contact as if he wanted to say "I don't know", but he answered anyway. "That whoever he was, he's a very powerful wizard. And a dangerous one as well."

"You don't have to tell me that he's dangerous," Tim snarled, finally turning his attention to his breakfast.

Bruce shook his head. "He isn't just dangerous because he's powerful," he said, causing Tim to look up again, even though Bruce was staring at the table in front of him. "My informant got scared, really scared, when I mentioned that he was probably from England and had the face of a snake," he explained, looking up at Tim again.

"Why?"

Bruce shrugged. "I have no idea. But whoever he is, he's dangerous, really dangerous," he repeated.

The two then finished their breakfast in silence. Once they were finished they put away their dishes for Alfred to clean up later. Afterwards Bruce went upstairs again to make himself ready for work. While he as owner and president of Wayne Enterprises didn't actually had anything to do at his own company, since Lucius Fox was running everything as chairman and CEO, but Bruce always claimed that his daily presence showed at least some dedication of him to his family's company.

"I'm going to meet Diana for lunch. Maybe she can tell me something about the vase," he told Tim and Alfred as he left the house, leaving the two to themselves.

After they heard the garage gate close, Tim turned to Alfred. "You still owe me a revenge in Destruction Derby," he teased.

Alfred raised his eyebrows in a snobby fashion. "As you wish, Master Drake," he replied with a drooling voice. "But don't complain when you lose again," he added and confidently strode past the younger man toward the living room, leaving behind an open-mouthed Tim.

* * *

After several remarkably boring conversations and meetings with board members and even more boring and annoying phone conferences with some stock holders, Bruce was more than happy to leave Wayne Tower and to meet Diana in a lovely little café not that far away from there at midday. Diana was already waiting for him there when he finally showed up. They greeted each other with an embrace and pecks on their cheeks before sitting down. "Hard day at the office," quipped Diana, noticing Bruce's boring and nerved attitude.

Bruce let out a small laugh. "Yeah, this is the highlight of my day up until now, so thanks for coming."

"No problem," Diana replied smiling. "You said something about a Greek vase?"

Bruce nodded and got out a picture of the stolen vase. Diana's face was branded with shock. "So you do know it then," he deduced.

The Amazonian princess nodded numbly. Diana had the feeling that her stomach had just turned upside down. This couldn't be true. "When was this photo taken?"

"A few weeks ago, before the exhibition about the Greek Dark Ages started."

"And where is the vase now?"

Bruce noticed that Diana's voice sounded agitated and that she somehow didn't manage to get back into her normally very controlled and clam public persona. "I don't know," he admitted, causing Diana to stare at him with an completely empty expression of shock in her eyes. "It got stolen last night. I nearly got the thief, but he managed to escape."

"How," breathed Diana, still in shock.

"It was a wizard," was Bruce's simple answer.

Diana wanted to say something about this remark, but then the waitress approached them to take their orders. After they ordered their meals and drinks and having nobody in direct hearing range anymore, they continued their conversation in hushed voices. "Okay, what do you know about this wizard," asked Diana.

"Nothing, besides the fact, that he's from England due to his accent," explained Bruce.

"That's not much to go on," Diana stated.

Bruce nodded. "I already asked for help from somebody working for the American Department of Magic..."

He didn't manage to say more, since Diana interrupted him. "The what," she asked a little too loud for Bruce's liking.

"I always thought you might know more about the magical world than I do," Bruce observed. "Nice to see that I was wrong," he then added with a smile.

Diana gave him a wicked glare as a response. "Only because I'm an Amazon doesn't mean I know everything about the world of magic, especially outside of my home, since I only lived in the non-magical side of the mortal world for the last 50 years," she explained.

Bruce held up both of hands in defensive position. "Hey, hey, don't be angry with me," he joked. "Anyway, I hope that I'll know whoever the thief was in a few hours." Silence. Bruce tried to get Diana to explain her previous outburst of shock with the help of an interrogating glare, but Diana on the other hand didn't want to give him the satisfaction of breaking and simply telling him – she wanted him to actually ask. But before it could come to it, their drinks arrived. They thanked the waitress and Bruce waited until she was gone, to finally ask the question burning the most on his mind in the moment. "What is the secret of this vase?"

Diana averted her eyes and began to stare at the ground, thinking about how to explain it. "It's a powerful artefact – created by Athena about 3,000 years ago to imprison a demon that escaped from the Hades, whose master wasn't able or willing to recapture at the time," she explained, looking back up again.

"So the demon is imprisoned in the vase?"

Diana shook her head. "No... Not really, no," she answered slowly. "I mean the demon's soul was split and entrapped in two different, nearly identical vases," she began explaining.

"And let me guess; if these two vases are brought together the demon will be released," Bruce finished, causing Diana to nod. "How powerful was this demon?"

Diana shrugged. "Back then I was still living on..." she had to stop once more, since their food was arriving. Once it had all been put in place and the waitress was gone again, she continued; "Well, I was still living on Themyscira and didn't know what was really going on in the outside world, besides whatever rumours got to our little island via the world of the gods. So I don't really know how powerful his demon was, but if Athena had to step in and lay a trap, that must mean it's extremely powerful."

"In other words, we should do everything we can do to keep the other vase out of the theft's hands," Bruce concluded.

His opposite nodded. "And we should try to get the other one back as well."

"I know, and I'm already on that one," Bruce argued before taking a sip of his drink. "And I hope you are going to try to locate the other vase, making sure it is safe," he then added.

"I think, I should help you with finding this vase," Diana tried to argue, but Bruce shook his head.

"No, it would be best if we split the resources. One vase was already stolen and we can't risk the other one landing in the same hands as well. And I think, you would be better suited finding the other vase than I am."

"Oh, has the great detective just admitted that he might couldn't solve a mystery," Diana teased, bringing a bit humour into their dry and serious conversation.

Bruce smiled. "Maybe," was all he said, before he began eating. For the rest of their lunch they talked about other things like business and their personal lives, taking their minds off the case for now. But the meeting had given Bruce enough to think about for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3: A Day like a Nightmare

Thus far Cornelius Fudge had had a lovely day and nothing really to worry about. His attack campaign against Dumbledore and Harry was working just fine and quite frankly, he hadn't had anything else of importance on his mind at the time. But the day took a turn for the worse when he returned from his lunch break. Just as he was entering the antechamber to his office, he was immediately informed by his Junior Assistant Percy Weasley that an emergency letter from the American Secretary of Magic had arrived for him. Wondering what his American equivalent wanted, he walked straight into his office, and opened the letter before he sat down. The Secretary wanted to talk to him, already today. Wondering what could be so important, Fudge penned an answer that he was awaiting the Secretary at six o'clock.

Afterwards he had to think about what his colleague wanted to talk about for the rest of the day. It stopped him from really following up on anything and he barely listened when his Undersecretary Doleres Umbridge tried to brief him on the current state of the smear campaign against Dumbledore and the Potter boy. She tried to argue for better measurements to discredit Potter, but Fudge wasn't really listening.

Umbridge had just left the office, when somebody knocked on the door. It was Percy,"Mr. Minister, Secretary Otway is here," he announced.

"Let her in," Fudge said, jumping out of his chair and walked over to the door, in order to greet his guest.

Elizabeth Otway was a very young witch for her position, with just forty-one she was the youngest Secretary of Magic in history. Unlike the British magical community, the American one was way more intervened with the muggle government and the Secretary was often directly appointed by the US President, which had also been the case with Otway. Thanks to rumours about the womaniser attitude of the current President, many people assumed that Otway, who was very attractive, had slept her way to power. But people who knew her, and Fudge was among those, knew that this definitely hadn't been the case. Otway had always hated using her attractiveness to her advantage and wanted to actually earn her positions – and she did. Fudge had seen her once getting angry with the Chinese Minister of Magic, and he, just as all the other people present back then, was happy to not yet have gotten on the wrong side of Otway. She could have quite a temper, was clever, cunning, and also a very talented witch, with clearly no need to manipulate anybody to give her a position.

The two greeted each other and Fudge offered her a seat. Otway thanked him and seated herself, while Fudge returned to his own chair. "So, for what reason do I have the honour," he asked smiling.

Otway didn't smile back, instead she reached inside her travelling cloak, got out an photo and threw it onto the desk. "Explain," she ordered.

Fudge felt like he had been struck by lightning. He was looking at the face of nobody else but Lord Voldemort. "This is an old photo," he simply said, even though he couldn't remember seeing this photo ever before.

Otway shook her head. "No. This was taken last night by a muggle security camera in a museum in Gotham City," she explained. "Now, Cornelius, I would like to know, what you intend to do about this."

The two stared at each other for a long time, until Fudge budged. "I don't know what a person looking like You Know Who appearing in your jurisdiction has anything to do with me," he said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

Otway was certainly not pleased. "Stop denying reality Fudge," she hissed. "He's back – and this isn't a discussion anymore. Dumbledore was right, something many other heads of state had expected all along. But we didn't say anything, because without proof it was nothing more than a domestic power struggle. This changes things."

Fudge gulped. "Why should that change anything," he asked. "There is no proof that this is actually him," he tried to argue, but he already knew that this was a very weak argument.

"So you're not going to do anything about this," Otway asked.

"What am I supposed to do," Fudge countered. "If that is really him, he seems to be in the US anyway. Like I said, that's not my jurisdiction."

Otway shook her head again. "You are unbelievable Fudge. Look at it," she said, pointing at the picture. "Do you really think he's going to stay in the US? His eyes were always set on Great Britain and he'll come here and make your life a living hell if you don't take precautions right now!"

"There is absolutely no evidence for that," Fudge argued desperately once again. "And I know that you have always been close to Dumbledore. Who's telling me, that you didn't make all of this up in order to back him up," he accused her angrily.

Otway was furious. "How do you dare, you little, insecure, power-hungry fool," she shouted. "The greatest threat your country and probably the entire magical world has faced in the past hundreds of years is back at your doorstep and you close your eyes, and for what? Seriously, for what? Why can't you just admit the truth?!"

Fudge jump out of chair, now angry as well. "I'll not get spoken to in this manner in my own office," he barked.

"Then maybe you should grow up and finally admit when you're wrong. It would make it a lot easier for you to get treated with the respect you want – including behind closed doors," Otway replied, now standing up as well.

"Out," Fudge ordered. "And take your silly photo with you," he then added, when Otway was about to leave without it.

The Secretary grabbed the photo, while giving Fudge a look that could have killed if looks were able to do so. "One day you'll regret not acting fast enough," she warned, before storming out of the office, past Percy and into the hallway. She stormed pass nobody else but Lucius Malfoy, who was very surprised to see the American Secretary of Magic storm past him in such an angry manner.

He straightened himself up, walked through the antechamber, giving a very tight nod to Percy and knocked on Fudge's office door. "Come in," came the response. When Lucius walked into the room, Fudge's mood changed. "Ah, Lucius, come in, come in," he said with a smile on his face. The Minister got up and offered him a chair and a drink.

"Thank you," Lucius answered after being handed a glass of fire whiskey. "What did Secretary Otway want," he asked after taking a sip of the whiskey.

Fudge's temper was changing again, and it was obvious that he didn't really want to talk about it. "Nothing, really, only, well...," Fudge didn't really know what to say. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to order his thoughts. He stood up and began pacing up and down behind his desk, while Lucius was watching him curiously, taking another sip from his whiskey. "She claims to have evidence that You Know Who has indeed returned," Fudge finally said.

That took Lucius aback. His surprised showed on his face, but to his own luck, Fudge was more dense than most people realised and was very unlikely to deduce that the shock on Lucius' face actually was about the fact that his master left evidence behind in Gotham instead of general shock about the possibility that Voldemort indeed could have returned. "But he hasn't, has he," Lucius finally asked after getting his thoughts back together again.

Fudge stopped pacing and looked straight at his guest. "Of course not," he said, trying to sound sure of himself, but it didn't really work, his voice shaking with doubt.

"But why should she make it up," Lucius asked, not because he was trying to convince Fudge otherwise instead he wanted to keep him in doubt, hoping to find out how deep Fudge was still in his rabbit hole.

The Minister shrugged. "She had always been a fan of Dumbledore and was against him being removed from the International Confederation of Wizards. She probably wants to help him out by bullying me into admitting that I'm wrong," he mused. Fudge shook his head one more time and decided to sit down again. "I always knew this was going to happen. He has far too many friends and he clearly has decided to use them against me."

Lucius smiled on his inside. Fudge clearly was convinced that everything was a conspiracy in order to oust him as Minister of Magic. "You've got friends as well," he told Fudge, convincing the Minister to trust him. With a man like Fudge, Lucius knew, he didn't need to use the Imperius Curse to have control of the Ministry, it was very easy to push the right buttons with him in order to get whatever he wanted out of this man.

"Of course Lucius," Fudge breathed. "Anyway, what do you want?"

"Oh nothing really – I only thought about making another contribution to the Ministry," answered the Malfoy family patriarch slyly. This turned Fudge's mood around and the two men chatted away about the amount of the money Lucius wanted to donate and for what cause. About thirty minutes later Lucius Malfoy left the Minister's office, still smiling to himself.

Fudge's mood was back up until he was about to leave the office a little bit over an hour later. The picture serving as his connection to the office of the muggle Prime Minister in Downing Street No. 10 was coughing. Fudge looked up at the small oil painting of an old man in a silver wig. "What is it," he asked.

"The muggle Prime Minister would like to have a word with you," the painted man told him.

Fudge mouth fell open. That had never happened to him before. He also couldn't remember hearing about the Prime Minister calling the Minster of Magic like this before he took office. "What does he want," he asked.

"I don't know, but he told me to tell you that he wants to see you at once," the painting answered.

Fudge nodded. "Okay, I'll be there in a minute," he assured the painting. The painted man disappeared back into his picture at Downing Street No. 10, while Fudge fetched a coat and a hat before using the Floo Network to travel over there as well.

Fudge was greeted by the muggle Prime Minister, who was a tall man with grey but full hair. Like most of the time he wore thick glasses and a dark-grey suit in combination with a blue tie. "Minister," he greeted Fudge with a grim voice.

"Prime Minister," Fudge greeted back before taking a seat on one of the chairs facing the Prime Minister. "What is the reason for this very unusual invitation?"

"Is everything okay in your world," the Prime Minister asked.

Fudge's confusion was written all over his face. "Yes of course. Why shouldn't it?"

"I don't know, you tell me," said the muggle politician and showed Fudge the same picture the American Secretary had shown him before.

"Where did you get this from," Fudge asked in shock.

"I got it as a fax from the American President, who in turn got it from your American opposite as I understand it," he explained.

Fudge shook his head. "I don't believe it," he muttered. "Listen, whatever your colleague told you, it's false. The American Secretary is in league with a political opponent of mine, who tries to convince the public that a certain very powerful wizard has returned," he explained.

The Prime Minister raised one eyebrow. "But he hasn't," he asked.

"No, of course not, we would know about that," Fudge countered.

"Really," the Prime Minister asked. "Because a government doesn't always know everything going on in a country – especially when we talk about terrorists, and from what I understand, this Voldemort guy" – Fudge flinched when the other man mentioned the name – "is exactly that. These people operate in secret. So, answer me again, are you absolutely certain, that he didn't return?"

Fudge had only met the Prime Minister thrice before – and all three times he received him as an very insecure man. He wasn't exactly confident at this very moment either, but it was obvious that he for once thought that he had the upper hand.

"I'm certain," Fudge assured the other politician.

"I'm not," the Prime Minister argued. "Who would really go as far as going to the head of another state, persuade her to create fake evidence about this, make her go to the muggle head of her state and persuade him to call me, so that I try to pressure you into doing whatever?"

"Why not," Fudge retorted.

The Prime Minister shook his head. "What power do I have over you," he asked.

"None," Fudge answered.

Now the Prime Minister nodded. "True, so what could they possibly achieve by this?"

Fudge had no answer this time. It was true, the muggle Prime Minister had no power to influence his policies nor could he force him to step down, so why would Secretary Otway ask the US President to get him putting pressure on Fudge? "They probably hoped that you could talk some sense into me, well, at least what they perceive as sense," he finally answered.

The Prime Minister licked his lips deep in thought. "Okay, Fudge," he said after awhile. "I won't tell you how to do your job nor will I get involved in your internal power struggles."

"Thank you, Prime Minister," Fudge interrupted and got up in order to leave.

"But," the Prime Minister added with force, "I want to know one thing – is there the possibility that this man can return one day? Because how I understood it, he could be a major security risk also to my country."

Fudge was taken aback once again. _Could this day get any worse?_ , he asked himself. "No, he's dead," he answered. "But, I have to admit, if he returned, then yes, he would pose a major risk to the security of muggle and wizard society."

The Prime Minister nodded and excused Fudge. As soon as Fudge had left, the Prime Minister picked up his phone and ordered the head of the MI5 to a briefing into his office.

After Fudge returned from his meeting with the Prime Minister, he decided he needed another shot of fire whiskey. He sat down on the couch in his office and poured himself a generous amount of the liquor into his glass and began gulping it down, when his office door sprung open. It was Dolores Umbridge, who, unlike their last meeting a few hours earlier, seemed very happy.

"Please tell me you've got good news," Fudge told her.

"Oh, I have Cornelius," she answered in her squeaky voice. "Harry Potter got caught using magic outside the school, in front of a muggle. Already for a third time, that means he'll have to be expelled from Hogwarts."

Fudge let his glass slip out of his hand. It hit the floor and spilled the whiskey all over the carpet. The Minister got out his wand and cleaned up the mess, before saying; "This is the best news I've heard all day."

He and Umbridge both grinned. "I already wanted to tell you a few minutes ago, but you weren't there," she said.

Fudge nodded. "I had a meeting with the muggle Prime Minister, he asked me to come over, but it was nothing of importance," he explained.

Just as Fudge wanted to invite his Senior Undersecretary for a drink, their good mood got spoiled by nobody else but Albus Dumbledore, who stormed through Fudge's office door. "We need to talk," he said and sat down on one of Fudge's chairs.

"This is mine office, Dumbledore," the Minister pointed out angrily.

"I know, but this is a matter of utter importance," the Hogwarts headmaster replied grimly.

"Let me guess," Umbridge chimed in, "it's about your favourite student, Harry Potter."

Dumbledore didn't answer, he didn't even awarded Umbridge with a look or a glance. Fudge took a deep breathe and then told Umbridge to leave the two of them alone. "Dumbledore, this has nothing to do with the problems we have had with each other over the course of the last few weeks. He broke the law, and that not for the first time I might add," Fudge tried to explain while seating himself on his chair.

"I know Cornelius, only that the first case already lies back three years and the second time something like this happened, you yourself got involved to keep him out of the clutches of the law," the older man recounted.

Fudge had to take another deep breathe to keep his cool. "The time that passed since the first incident doesn't matter. And we both know that the second time we faced extraordinary circumstances."

"And those are over now," Dumbledore shot back in a questioning tone. "Even if you don't want to believe the truth about Voldemort, Sirius Black is still free, isn't he? What do you think he'll do, once he knows that Harry will be fair game," the headmaster asked.

Fudge opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He hadn't thought about that. "Well, Black hasn't attempted to do anything since he escaped from Hogwarts last year, didn't he," he finally said, hoping to shut Dumbledore up, but he had no luck.

"At least drop the charge of using magic in front of a muggle," he pleaded.

"But he did use magic in front of a muggle."

"His cousin, who already knew he was a wizard anyway. That was not putting our secret in danger."

"Sorry, law is law," Fudge said and stood up. "Now I've got to ask you to leave. It's very late in the day and I want to go home."

Dumbledore nodded and stood up as well. "When will the hearing take place," he asked.

"A hearing," Fudge asked puzzled.

"Yes, a hearing. You can't really plan to expel a student from Hogwarts and convict him of a crime without giving him a hearing first. Think of the optics Cornelius," Dumbledore argued.

"Pfff, why should there be a hearing? The case is clear."

"Then you shouldn't have a problem laying it open in a hearing, while also giving Harry the chance to explain himself."

Fudge was breathing very hard, trying to control his anger. He not only knew that Dumbledore had a point, but he also wanted to get this old man out of his hair for now. "Okay, I'll set a date for a hearing, the 12th of August would be fine by me, are you satisfied?"

The older man smiled and nodded. "Yes, Cornelius, for once in the last few weeks you've actually did something right," he said. Before Fudge could say anything regarding this remark, Dumbledore had already left the office.

Fudge grunted and called Umbridge back in, telling her that she had to send a letter to Potter, informing him about the hearing and when it was going to take place. She also should call back the wizards sent out to fetch Harry and to destroy his wand. Umbridge face and mood fell to the same level as Fudge's but she did so anyway. _What a shitty day_ , Fudge thought before pouring himself another drink.


	4. Chapter 4: The Mission

**This chapter is nothing but information dump, hence it took longer to write, since it's pretty hard to write something like that while making it look kinda natural and interesting to read. From now on the chapters will come more regulary.**

* * *

It was late in the evening and Ellie was nervously walking up and down her living room. She looked over at the clock hanging at the wall; nearly ten pm already. _Where's Batman?_ , she asked herself. But it wasn't the waiting for the Caped Crusader that made her so nervous. It were the people she was waiting with that had her in this state of mind. One of them was Adam Ruscoe, the head of the Office of Magical Law Enforcement. He was a tall, old wizard, whose nearly white hair and many lines on his face clearly showed his old age, just as his scars showed his decade long commitment to fighting crime and hunting magical evil-doers. He had been Ellie's mentor when she joined the service and he still was a field operative. Both, he and Ellie, had their first run-in with Batman together, about nine years ago, when a kidnapping case had lead them to Gotham City.

While Ellie knew her boss very well and got along with him just fine, it wasn't normal to have him with her in her own flat. But the third person in the room made her even more nervous – Secretary Otway herself. After she had returned from London, she angrily ordered McCoy and Ellie into her office and wanted them to come up with a plan in order to somehow get Voldemort. And the plan they had come up with in a relatively short but also risky: Use Batman. They had a hard time selling this idea to Otway, and Ellie didn't really believe they were successful at all, but at least they had gotten her to listen and to come with them. Otway's main concern was the fact, that Batman was a Muggle, and she didn't hesitate to point that out. But Ruscoe managed to convince her to come with him over to Ellie's place in order to meet Batman.

Surprisingly Otway had agreed, even though rather reluctantly, and then ordered Ellie and Ruscoe to help her set up protective charms around the apartment, in order to inform and warn them whenever Batman was going to come. Ellie knew that some increased protection was in order due to the fact that Otway was the Secretary, but some of these charms went out of their way to make the apartment an impenetrable fortress. _She probably just wants to show how useless Batman would be_ , Ellie mused, just as a magical alarm bell rang, that was supposed to inform them when somebody was on the roof.

"That must be him," Otway mused and got out her wand, pointing it at the window, then another alarm rang, somebody was outside the apartment in the hall.

Ellie looked through her door-spy and saw a shadow entering the staircase. "Probably only one of my neighbours," she said with a shrug.

The roof alarm rang again, and at the same time, the alarm for the spell on the fire escape and for the window at Ellie's bathroom rang as well. All three wizards got out their wands. Ellie ran to the bathroom but found nothing, even the window was closed, while Ruscoe and Otway checked the fire escape outside of the living room window. Also nothing. This cat and mouse game went on for nearly half an hour, with several spells being broken at once, causing magical alarms to be heard. Then Otway threw her arms up and shouted "Enough!" The alarms stopped and it was silent again in the apartment.

"I wondered when you were going to have enough of this," said a cold, deep voice in a sarcastic manner, that was coming from the shadows in Ellie's kitchen.

All three wizards turned around in shock as a tall, dark figure emerged out of them. It was Batman. "How did you do that," Ellie asked in surprise and shock, but also awe.

Batman smiled and said, "Professional secret." He then turned to the other two people in the room. "Mr. Ruscoe," he said to the old wizard, and both nodded to each other as a greeting. "And you are?" Otway was still a bit in shock and her mouth was hanging open, but she was able to shake off her confusion enough in order to give an answer. And that answer came as a surprise to Batman. "I assume the thief was more than just some random wizard," he asked Ellie, who shook her head in response.

"Not only isn't he just some random wizard, Batman, but the most powerful dark wizard in centuries if not nearly a millennia," Ruscoe answered.

Batman had expected to hear that the man was powerful, but that powerful? That came as quite a surprise, but then again, he always liked a good challenge. "I guess, that's why you're here," he said to Otway, who nodded, still a bit taken aback by the fact that he managed to get past their defence spells. "Why," he then asked.

"Why what," Ellie asked back.

Batman continued to stare at Otway, indicating that he meant her. "Why are you here? Clearly not to simply witness them telling me how dangerous this man is," he said.

"Why do you think," Otway replied, putting as much confidence in her voice as possible, but it was still shaking a bit.

"Either because you personally want to impress me and tell me to stay away from it, or for some political reason you're interested in my help in this matter," Batman deduced, fixating his opposite with his glare.

Otway gulped. "It's more the later kind of thing," she said.

"Maybe we should sit down," Ellie offered and everybody sat down, including Batman.

He sat in one of the two armchairs in the room, opposite him, in the other armchair sat Ruscoe, while Ellie and Otway sat down on the sofa next to them. "Well then, what kind of assistance could the Department of Magic need from a No-Maj like me," he said coldly, clearly meaning it as both a humorous quip and an insult.

The two witches and the wizard exchanged some debating looks, before Ellie began to talk. "The man you fought goes by the name of Lord Voldemort, but in our world we only say You-Know-Who or He Who Must Not Be Named," she explained.

"Some also call him The Dark Lord, but those people normally have an affiliation with the dark arts and often are his own followers," Ruscoe added.

Batman simply nodded, while thinking about a reason why anybody would call himself 'Flight of Death' in French. But he kept this thought to himself. "And what's this real name," was what he said instead.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Ellie answered.

After thinking about it for a few seconds, Batman finally realised why this man had given himself the title Lord Voldemort. "An anagram," he deduced. "Interesting."

The other three looked at him confused. Ruscoe was the first to object, "There's no a or i in his new name and only one..." He stopped himself before finishing his argument. His face showed that he just realised what Batman meant and Batman himself was smiling a little bit. "I am Lord Voldemort," Ruscoe said. "Why did I never see that before?"

"You never thought about it," Batman said coldly. "Now, why would you need my help with him?"

Otway took a deep breath, before beginning to explain everything, "In order to explain that, you've to understand Riddle's backstory," she said. "He was born on New Year's Eve 1926 at Wool's Orphanage, with his mother dying in child birth and his father being unknown. He grew up in the orphanage and from 1938 on attended Hogwarts, the British boarding school for witches and wizards, for the next seven years. He got several awards and titles while there, after graduation he applied for a teaching position there."

"What subject," Batman asked while making mental notes that would help him create a character profile for this guy.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts. He of course didn't get it since he was still too young. He got a job at Borgin and Burkes, a shop for dark magical artefacts, instead. He worked there for about ten years before dropping off the face of the earth," Otway continued but Batman interrupted her again.

"Where can I find that shop," he asked, while already concluding that Voldemort probably didn't receive a lot of attention as a little kid, growing up to be a sociopath with a certain desire for control since he probably had to take control over his life at a very young age, hence his desire to become a teacher. He also clearly thought of Hogwarts as a home, since he was so willing to stay there, and while there he certainly had taken a liking in the dark arts, which wouldn't have been surprising considering his background, hence sending him down the path that would turn him into a feared criminal.

While Batman did deduce all of this in his head, the three magic users exchanged some worried looks with one another. "In Knockturn Alley in London, but it's nearly impossible to access for No-Majs," Ellie finally said.

"The only way for a No-Maj to go there would be through the Leaky Cauldron, a pub located between 48 Charing Cross Road and 12 Great Newport Street. And the pub is only visible for people who know it's there," Otway explained.

"Like Mrs. Kasey's bookshop in Philadelphia," Batman replied, knowing that his knowledge of that place existing would shock the other three, and it certainly did. But neither one of them said anything about it, predicting that Batman wouldn't tell them how he knew about it anyway.

Instead Ruscoe simply nodded. "Well, yeah. But you need a wizard to get into Diagon Alley," he said.

"And Diagon Alley leads to Knockturn Alley," Batman asked, which got answered by Ruscoe through another simple nod. The Dark Knight then turned back to Secretary Otway. "What did happen then?"

Otway took a deep breath before continuing her information dump, "He returned in 1966 just when Hogwarts had gotten a new headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who's regarded as the most powerful wizard of our time and even You-Know-Who was so afraid of him, that he dreaded to challenge him. He applied again for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and got turned down again. He seemingly got his revenge by cursing the position, because since then every teacher who took that position had to leave it again after just one year.

"Anyway, at that moment in time, he was already only using the name Lord Voldemort, and began to gather followers, who called themselves Death Eaters. By 1970 he gained the allegiance of two groups of magical creatures that were, and still are, marginalised by our society, giants and werewolves." At this moment Otway paused, but Batman showed no reaction of any kind to the revelation that werewolves and giants existed. "He used those groups to attack the magical and non-magical communities in Great Britain, which started the Wizarding War. Throughout the entire 1970s You-Know-Who gathered more and more power while the Ministry of Magic was losing ground everywhere. Dumbledore started a resistance group called the Order of the Phoenix, which was more successful in stopping the Death Eaters' rise to power than the Ministry's efforts. But even they could only slow it down, not stop it. Then on Halloween 1981 You-Know-Who appeared in Godric's Hollow, a small village northern of Bristol at the border to Wales, and killed two members of the the Order, Lily and James Potter. He then tried to kill their just one year old son Harry – and failed."

Otway stopped again and silence filled the room. After a few moments Batman asked, "Why did he fail?"

The Secretary shrugged. "Nobody knows. All we know is that he tried to kill Harry with the Killing Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses, the use of one of them can get you a life sentence."

"What are the other two," Batman asked, while he began to realise that he was dealing with a full-grown out psychopath.

"The Imperius Curse, which takes away a person's free will and makes him or her to a puppet of whoever casts the curse, only the very strong-willed can escape it's grasp. And the Cruciatus Curse, which makes you feel as if your body's inside is on fire, it's probably the most cruel form of torture there is, and if someone suffers long enough of it, he or she will go insane," explained Ellie.

Batman signalled that he understood by nodding and then returned to the previous topic at hand, "What happened then?"

"The Killing Curse rebounded, leaving only a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on Harry's forehead, but it destroyed the house and seemingly also You-Know-Who's body," Otway continued.

Now Batman was confused and it showed on his face. "How could he have been in Gotham City last night, if his body got destroyed nearly fourteen years ago?"

The other three shrugged once again. "Nobody really knows, all we can be certain off is that he disappeared after that Halloween night. Many of his followers were arrested or returned to the other side, claiming that they had suffered from the Imperius Cruse," Ellie said.

"Three years ago rumours of his possible return emerged after an incident at Hogwarts, that once again involved young Harry Potter," Ruscoe added. "But there was seemingly nothing to it. Young Harry and his friends had only gotten in the way of a teacher who tried to steal the last Philosopher's Stone known to exist."

"Which isn't the case for the rumours going around now," Otway then said.

"And what do those rumours say," Batman asked, while making a mental note that he had to check up on the rumours about Voldemort's attempted return three years ago – he didn't believe that this dark lord had nothing to do with it.

"According to Harry Potter he witnessed You-Know-Who's resurrection last June, but nobody besides Dumbledore seems to believe him or at least the British Ministry tries to make it look that way," Otway said.

"They've it easy I might say, since the only other possible witness, another Hogwarts student, Cedric Digory, died that night," Ruscoe added.

"What do you mean, the Ministry is trying to make it look like nobody believes this Potter boy," Batman wanted to know.

"Well, Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister only got the position, because Dumbledore decided to stay headmaster at Hogwarts about five years ago. At first Fudge used him as an advisor, but the longer he stayed in office, the more paranoid he became. Now he believes that this entire story is only one gigantic plot by Dumbledore to overthrow him, which of course doesn't make any sense, since Dumbledore more than once turned down a possible political career in order to stay at Hogwarts," Otway explained. "But still, Fudge is convinced that Dumbledore tries to overthrow him. The headmaster used to be the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards."

"He was more or less the magical equivalent to the General Secretary of the UN," Ellie threw in as an explanation before Batman could ask what it meant.

Otway nodded. "Oh, yeah. Fudge got him removed from that position, just as his position as Chief Warlock at the Wizengamot, which is something like the Supreme Court of the magical community in Britain. He also started a smear campaign, and the biggest newspaper in the magical community, the Daily Prophet, which nearly every witch and wizard over there reads, played along. To be quite honest, something like a true independent press doesn't really exists in magical Britain."

"And this smear campaign makes it look like Dumbledore is out for political power and all people who support him and believe Potter's claim are enemies of the state," Batman concluded. The other three nodded in agreement. Then Batman smiled. "Now I understand why you need my help."

"Oh, yes," Otway asked.

The Dark Knight nodded. "Oh yeah. The British Ministry is not going to do anything, because they'll dismiss any evidence proving Voldemort's return as false, and you can't do anything without causing an international outcry, hence you need a private party doing your dirty work, and I as a No-Maj am the best suited for this, since nobody would suspect me working together with you," he explained his deduction.

The Secretary nodded again. "Absolutely right. And will you do it?" Batman's glare served as answer enough. "Okay, then, any more questions?"

"Where do I find Harry Potter?"

"He lives with his maternal aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley, both No-Majs, or how the Brits call them, Muggles. They live in a small town in Surrey called Little Whining, the address is 4 Privet Drive," answered Ruscoe.

Batman nodded and stood up. "One more thing – When did Voldemort begin to look like a snake?"

"This transformation had to began in the ten years he was nowhere to be found, since before then he was a rather handsome young man but when he returned he was looking more snake-like, even though not as much as now. And please don't ask how he did it, that's another mystery nobody can answer," Otway said.

"Nobody, besides Dumbledore maybe," Ruscoe added.

"And where do I might find him," Batman then asked.

All three shrugged. "The hell if we know where he is. Maybe at Hogwarts? The only problem is that it's unplottable, which means it's impossible to find, all everybody knows is that it's somewhere in the north of Scotland," the older man answered.

Batman nodded again and went over to the window. As he opened it, Otway said one last thing, "If you need any help..." she started, but Batman cut her off.

"I already have a back-up call," he said, showing them some kind of watch.

"And what does this thing do," Ellie said.

"Calling a big blue boyscout," Batman answered jokingly, before stepping out onto the fire escape stairs, got out his grabbling hook gun, shot over to the roof of the building opposite and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

"Who," Otway called out, not getting the joke.

Ellie on the other hand had to chuckle. "It's a nickname for Superman," she said.

"I should've known," Otway mumbled. "Well then, I think this business is done," she said and turned to Ellie. "Have a good night, Ms. McCoy," she said and left. Ruscoe followed suit and left Ellie alone for the night.


	5. Chapter 5: The Advance Guard

**It again took me longer to write this as planned, but at least we are now at the point that I think every reader had been waiting for: Batman finally entering the world of Harry Potter.**

* * *

It was very early in the morning, the sun was about to rise and Batman and Robin had just returned from their nightly patrol through Gotham. "So when are we going to leave England," Tim asked his mentor excitedly.

Before Bruce could answer an alarm went off. "What's going on," he asked Alfred instead.

"The Bat-Signal, sir," answered the butler, pointing at the main monitor of the Bat-Computer. "There seems to be some kind of emergency."

Bruce groaned. He had already removed his mask, cape and gloves, and was about to get out of his boots. "You'll stay here, I'll call you if I need you," he ordered Tim, getting back into his costume and off he was.

It wasn't often that the Batmobile drove through the streets of Gotham in daylight, but since it was still summer, the sun rose very early and so it was already very bright when Bruce reached the GCPD headquarters close to 6 am in the morning. He used his normal way up and was surprised to not find Jim Gordon up on the roof, but Secretary Otway. "Where's the Commissioner," he asked in a growling deep, nearly threatening voice.

In that very moment Gordon shot through the door. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Good question," said Batman and stared at Otway. "I hope something important happened." Otway nodded as an answer and then turned to Gordon. "Leave this to me Jim," said Batman still in a visibly angry mood.

At first it looked like Gordon was about to argue before he thought the better of it and left, but not without telling Otway off for using the Bat-Signal without permission. He didn't even ask for her name or how she got onto the roof of police headquarters, but Batman knew that the Commissioner would start an inquiry about both those things, an inquiry that would answer nothing. Just before he left, Jim gave Batman a look that told him, that they would have to have a discussion later.

"Now, I got important information from London," Otway told the Dark Knight. "Last evening, well, afternoon for us, Harry Potter and his cousin Dudley Dursley got attacked."

"By whom," Batman asked, even though he thought that he already knew the answer to this question.

"I don't know. According to rumours two Dementors."

"Two what?"

"Dementors, foul creatures who feed of the fear and despair of human beings by bringing somebody's worst memories to the forefront of their mind, making it so that the negative emotion those memories cause is all you can feel – it's like all good gets sucked out of you," she explained with a shudder running through her body.

Even Batman had to gulp. He didn't wish to ever meet a creature like that. He knew what effect Scarecrow's fear toxin had on him and this sounded even worse. "How do you defeat them," he asked.

"You don't. Very powerful wizards can created a Patronus, a kind of shield out of pure good energy, fuelled by your most precious happy emotion. A Patronus, if powerful enough, can scare the Dementors away, but there's no way to actually destroy them."

"Do you people not keep watch on them," Batman asked angrily.

"Oh yes we do. Here in the US we try to keep them as far away from humans as possible, but it's nearly impossible to prevent any human contact. And up until a few years ago we used them as prison guards for wizard prisons, but it was deemed too inhuman to the prisoners and hence the MACUSA forbid it. Our British friends on the other hand still use their Dementors in such a manner," explained the Secretary further.

Now Batman was surprised. "Do I understand this correctly; British Dementors work for the British magical government," he asked.

Otway nodded. "Oh yes, and up until now they were the only ones able to control them."

"Up until now?"

"During the Wizarding War You-Know-Who managed to get most of the Dementors on his side, and since he has returned he might already have began to rally his old non-human allies behind him."

Batman nodded slowly. While that was certainly a possibility, he wasn't going to ignore the other possibility, and that was that the Ministry itself send those Dementors after Harry. But why would they do that? "What exactly happened," he asked.

Otway shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that in order to defend himself and his cousin, Potter used a Patronus charm, rumour has it a corporal one, which is the most powerful version, very advanced for a fifteen year old. Anyway, as you probably know out of your previous encounters with our kind, well, we have certain laws against use of magic in public in order to prevent No-Majs from discovering our existence."

"And Britain has the same laws, I guess," Batman interrupted.

Otway nodded. "Yes. It's called the International Statue of Secrecy, signed by all magical nations. Some follow it more strictly than others but in the end it all comes to down to us hiding ourselves from your kind," she said. "Anyway, Potter used magic in public, as a minor. According to British law, a minor is only allowed to use magic while at Hogwarts and nowhere else, as long as there's no case of emergency. The same goes for use of magic in front of a No-Maj."

Batman frowned. "But wasn't this a case of emergency, and didn't his cousin already knew that he's a wizard anyway?"

"Oh yes, but the Ministry is denying that the Dementors were even there and they don't care that the Dursley boy already knew about the magical abilities of his cousin beforehand. They want to use this as an excuse to punish Potter, especially since this is already the third time something like this happened."

"Third time," Batman asked bewildered. "The way you people try to keep out of the limelight I would've assumed that government acting earlier."

"You're both right and wrong. We have a three-strikes-law over here, but in Britain they got a two-strikes-law."

"Then why didn't the Ministry acted earlier?"

"The second time a dangerous criminal, Sirius Black, a follower of You-Know-Who, had just escaped from Azkaban, the British wizard prison, and the Ministry thought he was going to go after Potter, since the boy was responsible for the downfall of his master. They were right, Black managed to infiltrate Hogwarts more than once, before finally being captured and then escaping again. He has been in hiding ever since. Maybe that's the reason why Fudge is even bothering with a hearing on this matter, since he normally would only go the short-route and simply expel Potter from Hogwarts, which would results in the boy never to be allowed to use magic again."

Batman nodded slowly and rubbed his chin before asking, "Who do you think send the Dementors?"

"You-Know-Who of course. I mean, Fudge might be an idiot and will go very far to reach his political goals but putting two boys in danger, plus some other No-Majs? No way he'd be that desperate."

The Dark Knight nodded slowly while listening. He had reached a different conclusion but he kept his thoughts to himself for now. "You said a hearing is going to take place?"

"Yes, on August 12th at the Ministry. Potter is supposed to stay put at his aunt and uncle's house until then."

Batman nodded again and then thanked the Secretary for the update, before disappearing again. As he drove back to the Bat-Cave, the Batmobil clearly was the most outstanding vehicle in the early morning traffic.

* * *

It had been four days since the meeting on the roof top of the police headquarters in Gotham and three days since Bruce and Tim flew overseas to England in hopes of getting into contact with the Order of the Phoenix. They had set up camp in Little Whining and installed surveillance equipment at Privet Drive No. 4 in order to pick up if any member of the Order would try to contact Harry. But until now they hadn't had any luck. Sitting in a motel room only a few streets away, Bruce and Robin sat there and listened to what was going on in the Dursley's home. A bug they had managed to place in Harry's room had told them that he hadn't had any contact with the Order, in fact he seemed to be angry that nobody was contacting him or answering his tries to contact them.

This evening the Dursleys informed Harry that they were going out after receiving a letter telling them that they were short-listed in a non-existing contest, which was more than just suspicious to Batman. Hence he decided to use this opportunity to contact Harry himself and he also hoped that he might meet either a Death Eater or somebody from the Order, both things would have helped him a lot in his investigation.

"You stay here and inform me if somebody's coming while I'm on the way," he instructed Tim while getting into costume. The teenager nodded but he clearly wasn't happy about him staying behind.

Batman swung through the dusk and hid in the shadows on his way over to Privet Drive No. 4. Just as he arrived on the top of Privet Drive No. 5 he spotted something going on in the ground floor of No. 4 and Tim spoke up in his ear. "Something's going on there. Might be burglars, but they probably wouldn't be making such a loud rampage as these guys are making," he said.

Bruce nodded and muttered a positive response, before taking out his grappling hook gun, shot onto the other house and swung over to the other side. Harry had just left his room and run into the intruders in the hall way. "Professor Moody," Bruce heard the boy say as he silently opened the window to Harry's room and sneaked into the house.

"I don't know so much about 'Professor', never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly," answered a low, growling voice that certainly belonged to an older person.

Bruce moved outside of Harry's room and through the shadows of the hallway to the top of the staircase. He looked down below and saw Harry slowly walking down the stairs to nine different people standing in the entrance hall. The boy still had his wand in his hands even though he didn't seem to be prepared to actually fight. Then another voice spoke up as Harry slowly approached the group downstairs. "It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away."

The teenager stopped for a second before asking "P-Professor Lupin? Is that you?"

Seemingly some teachers from Hogwarts were here to help Harry, thought Batman. And since Dumbledore was Hogwarts' headmaster it was only logical for these teachers to probably be members of the Order, he deduced from that. But for now he decided to listen in to what was going on downstairs for a little while longer. Then a woman spoke up. "Why are we all standing in the dark," she asked before using a magical spell in order to light up the room with a small light coming out of the tip of her wand. Batman retreated a few steps backwards in order to continue to hide himself. The positive side effect was that he now could make out the people standing downstairs.

The one standing closest to Harry looked worn out and ill, his hair was getting grey and his clothes looked very shabby indeed. The man who spoke first stood a little bit further back, he was definitely older, his grey hair was thinning out, his face was scattered with scars, nearly half of his nose was missing and one of his eyes was replaced by an artificial, probably magical eye. The woman whose wand was lightening up the room at the moment looked the youngest out of all of them; she had a pale heart-shaped face, dark happy eyes, and short spiky violet-coloured hair. "Wotcher! Harry," she said to greet the young wizard.

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," said a bald black wizard, who stood the furthest back, in a deep slow voice. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," said a silver-haired wizard standing close to the black one with a wheezy-voice. "Lily's eyes."

Batman immediately realised that most of these people had known the Potters well and were probably going to be very protective of Harry because of that. Then Moody stepped forward again and examined Harry thoroughly with both his real and his magical eye. " Are you quite sure it's him, Lupin?" he growled. "It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"Harry, what form does your Patronus take?" Lupin asked.

"A stag," said Harry nervously.

"That's him, Mad-Eye," said Lupin.

Batman raised a brow. Mad-Eye was definitely a very fitting nickname for this man. Not only because he had a weird eye, but he also was definitely paranoid, at least to a certain extant. This observation of Batman was immediately confirmed when Harry descented the staircase further and put his wand in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" he roared. What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!"

"Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" asked the violet-haired woman.

"Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" Moody growled. "Elementary wand-safety, nobody bothers about it any more." He stumbled towards the kitchen. "And I saw that," he told the young woman, who just rolled her eyes behind his back. And then, Lupin was just about to give Harry his hand, Moody got out his own wand and turned around back to the stairs. "We have a guest," he growled while pointing his wand at the top of the staircase.

Everybody else was getting their wands out as well, leaving Batman only the chance of an fight one against ten or trying to talk. Since he wanted to get into contact with the leadership of their Order fighting them probably wasn't a great idea. So he stepped into the light. All then wizards stared in surprise at him, some even gasped, including the young woman standing next to Lupin, who muttered something under her breath. Batman then walked down a few stairs before jumping into the air, made a somersault in order to avoid hitting the balustrade of the staircase, and landed directly in front of Moody, between the other nine wizards.

"Who are you," demanded the older wizard to know, not really being able to hide his surprise.

"I'm Batman," answered Bruce in his usual deep voice. "And I would prefer you not sneaking under my mask with your eye," he then added, sounding way more threatening than before. Before Moody could ask what he meant, Batman explained, "I know that your one eye is magical and can see through solid mass, that's the only explanation for your seeing me from the kitchen entrance at the top of the staircase. And I know you are using this ability right now in order to figure out who I might be. Stop it."

"I don't think it matters really, since I don't recognise you anyway," countered Moody angrily. "But you still haven't answered my question."

"I did," Batman replied, his face cold and stiff like a mask.

"What kind of name is Batman," asked the bald, black wizard.

"It's not my name, but it is who I am." He then turned back around to Moody. "And I guess you can understand why I'm not willing to reveal my name to a bunch of strangers."

The two stared at each other for a moment before Moody began nodding in agreement. "I understand, but that doesn't change anything. Either you are now telling us who you are or-"

Moody had done the wrong thing by threatening Bruce. In less than a second, Bruce had grabbed Moody's wand arm and thrown him around into three of the other wizards. At the same time, he had gotten out two smoke bombs with his other hand and exploded them. Then he shot his grappling hook at the ceiling, swung himself forward, while throwing a Batarang at the woman whose wand was the only light source in the room. The wand got knocked out of her hand and immediately went out. The house was back in complete darkness and out of nowhere Lupin, just as he was about to mutter " _Lumos_ " himself, got sucker punched in the face, nearly knocking him out. Batman then threw three other Batarangs at the wizards and managed to disarm the three men he aimed at. He felt Harry putting his wand at his back. Before Harry could threaten him, Batman took his wand arm and twisted it behind his back, then he used Harry as a shield and pushed him against two other wizards who tried to help the teenager, knocking all three to the ground.

Moody had gotten back to his feet and he and the bald, black wizard were pointing their wands at Batman. They muttered their curses, which Batman somehow managed to avoid being hit by through ducking and throwing his last two Batarangs in the air, which took the full blow of the two curses. And in the same swift movement he jumped forward and knocked the last two standing wizards to the ground.

While standing back up, Batman grabbed Moody at his collar. "Now, I'll only say this once. I've got an important message for Albus Dumbledore about Lord Voldemort. Tell him I want to meet him tomorrow at midnight under Twelvetrees Cress. And he's to come alone," he told the other man in a deep, threatening growl. Moody didn't answer, but that was a mistake. Batman pushed him against the door case of the kitchen door so hard, that Moody nearly scream with pain. "Do you understand?"

Four of the other wizards had gathered themselves enough to get back on their feet. Batman reacted fast enough and when Moody still didn't answer, he threw his body over to the others, knocking all five onto the ground once again. Batman gave turned on the light, gave all of them another evil glare and then left through the back door, leaving behind ten scared wizards and witches.

* * *

"What was that," asked the small wizard with the purple hat after Batman has left.

"A Muggle in a stupid costume that managed to beat us all up," answered the black bald wizard coldly.

"Maybe we should change the plan," said the wheezy-voiced wizard at once.

Moody shook his head. "No way, we don't have time for that. But we should inform the rear guard to keep a look-out for the guy."

While the adults argued about what to do next, Harry sat on the staircase, holding his heavy head. He was consumed by his thoughts when he was brought back to reality by the witch with the short violet hair. "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, thanks," he answered. He didn't knew what else to say.

"I'm Nymphadora Tonks, but please never call me Nymphadora," introduced the witch herself and gave Harry her hand, helping him stand up. What followed then was an introduction of everybody. The bald black wizard was Kingsley Shacklebolt, the wheezy-voiced wizard was Elphias Doge, and the small wizard with the purple hat was Dedalus Diggle. Then there were Emmeline Vance, a stern looking witch in an emerald green cloak; Sturgis Podmore, a square-jawed wizard with thick straw-coloured hair; and Hestia Jones, a pink-cheeked witch with black hair.

"Why are you all here," Harry asked nervously.

"We've come to take you away," Lupin answered.

"But we don't longer have much time, the Dursleys will be back soon, I don't think it'll take them much longer to realise that there is no All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition," Tonks added with a smirk.

"And where are we going? The Burrow?"

"No not the Burrow, somewhere much safer than that," answered Lupin with a reassuring smile.

Moody was in a grumpy mood. "I hope it's still that save after what just happened," he said.

"Do we have another choice," asked Shacklebolt. "You were the one who just said that there's not enough time to chance the plan."

Moody groaned. "All right, all right. Boy, do you have a glass of water for me?" Harry nodded and went to the kitchen, getting a glass out of the cupboard and filling it with water from the sink. He gave it to Moody, who said "cheers" and then put his right, magical eye in it. "After what just happened I'll definitely need a full-around view on our way back," he explained. Harry nodded numbly, not knowing what else to do. "Now, better get going. Boy, get your things together. Like Tonks said, we have to be fast."

Harry nodded and ran back upstairs. "I'll help you," said Tonks and ran after him. While the two were upstairs the older wizards and witches discussed their next step. "I'll send a message to the rear guard," said Moody, got out his wand, conjured up a Patronus and send it out with the message to look out and to be closer on their heels than planed.

Remus got out a piece of parchment and quill in order to write a letter to the Dursleys to explain everything to them. After he was done, he picked up one of the Batarangs. "Simple boomerangs out of metal," he said to the others watching him. The others, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the kitchen machines, and Hestia Jones was going through drawer, where she found a potato peeler, which she laughed about for over a minute.

"Why do you think he left them here," asked Emmeline Vance concerned.

Lupin shrugged. "Maybe he can afford it," he suspected. "Or he simply didn't want the find to continue, I don't know."

"What are we going to do about this man anyway," asked Dedalus Diggle in a scared voice, nervously rubbing his hands together.

"We'll have to inform the others about him," growled Moody angrily. His honour really got hurt by the fact that they all had been so easily defeated. Just as he was about to tell off Hestia for laughing so much, Harry and Tonks came down the stairs with suitcase and broomstick in hand. "Good, everything's ready? Great, then let's go," he said and marched towards the back door.

Lupin informed Harry about the letter, Moody put a Disillusion Charm on Harry in order to conceal him, before informing him formally of their plan, and then they were off to London. What none of them knew was that Harry, Lupin, Moody, and Shacklebolt had all homing devices on them that got tracked by Batman and Robin, who were sitting at their Batwing, following their trail from a safe distance.


	6. Chapter 6

A little announcement: I'm sorry that I haven't uploaded the story. I was working on different stuff and just couldn't manage to get the next chapter right. I don't know how often I've rewritten the meeting between Dumbledore and Batman but I can't seem to find a version with which I'm statisfied. But it's an integral scene so I'd rather not take it out. I'll try to finish this story within this year, and I hope there are still people who'll want to read it, but prior to that I'll finish my new story, a follow up to Infinity War, which is really coming along easier than this story ever did to be honest.


	7. Chapter 7: Meeting at Midnight

**This is a very short chapter, but I think I finally got the meeting between Dumbledore and Batman right, or at least satisfactory enough to be published. Right now I'm stuck at the decision of having Dumbledore discuss the aftermath with other members of the Order or to simply show the next meeting and only hint at what might have been discussed in such a meeting at later points. However, I hope this is okay and that the next update will not have to wait several years again. Enjoy.**

* * *

Dumbledore appeared out of thin air at the designated place for meeting. He had his wand ready, knowing that this meeting could get dangerous. Not only based on what Snape had reported but what he had heard and read about Batman before. He has been following the exploits of meta humans since quite some time now, finding the entire concept intriguing. Most wizards weren't even aware of their existence due to their general ignorance about anything going in the muggle world. After he heard that Batman wanted to talk to him, he had started to do some more in detail research into the man to be prepared for this encounter.

Both Snape and Moody both wanted to accompany him, but he declined their offers. This was something he had to handle alone. He also didn't want to start any more unnecessary fights and he was certain that it would come to such if he wouldn't come here alone. His caution was also the reason why he had come earlier than he was supposed to. After the encounter the others had with the vigilante he wanted to take several precautions including putting several protection spells into place. But as he as soon as he appeared, he had realised that he was too late since he could already see the eyes of Caped Crusader piercing through him from the back.

Turning around he said, "Seems like we both had the same idea, Mr. Wayne," in greeting, with a smile on his face. He hoped to see some kind of reaction on the other man's face but he moved no muscle.

Dumbledore didn't have a very hard time concluding Batman's true identity once he had put his mind too it. He knew that Batman needed to either have a lot of money himself or somebody who backed him up, leaving only a handful of men in the right age in the Gotham area. Among those he looked into their background and Wayne's loss of his parents at a young age and his disappearance in his late teens until early twenties was enough to convince Dumbledore that he was famed Dark Knight. He had a personal motivation, he had the money, according to the tabloids he had no real private life and was jumping from relationship to relationship, leaving his spare time open to operate as a vigilante. Even the appearances of a new Robin always coincided with the timing of Wayne taking in a new ward. Dumbledore was honestly surprised that nobody else seemed to have made this connection and went public with it, since he was certain that some people had to have come to the same conclusions.

Batman himself was waiting for the old wizard to say something else or to make some other move. He was not really surprised that Dumbledore had figured out his true identity. After all he had heard, this man was a genius and despite all the effort he put into hiding his civilian identity, he knew it was not impossible for somebody to figure it out anyway.

Dumbledore broke the silence by joking that great minds think alike and then offered Batman a sherbet lemon, taking it for himself once the American didn't take it. "I must say, I was impressed, there aren't many people who could take on the witches and wizards I had send to retrieve Harry on their own let alone together."

"They weren't prepared," was Batman's simply answer, causing Dumbledore to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"Really," he asked amused. "As I know Alastor Moody, he's normally always prepared."

"He is, but only for threats he anticipates," Batman replied. "He was prepared to fight dark wizards, magical creatures or maybe even Harry's muggle relatives but not somebody like me."

Dumbledore's slight grin broadened into an actual smile. He was right, as much as Moody famed himself for always being on guard and chastised others for not being so, even he could only really be prepared for things he had already experienced or at least heard about. But he had to ask, "And if he had anticipated it?"

"We probably wouldn't be standing here," admitted Batman coldly.

Now the smile had reached Dumbledore's eyes, which started to sparkle bright like they did most of the time anyway. "After everything I heard about you, you might be a bit too modest, Mr. Wayne." Batman once again ignored the usage of his real name. Dumbledore kept his cheerful demeanour on but he sighed inwardly since he had really hoped that he could extract some kind of reaction out of this man by keep calling him by his given name. "Now, as I understood it, you wanted to talk to me about Lord Voldemort," he asked instead of trying to involve Wayne in some other kind conversation which was obviously futile.

Batman replied with a crude nod, causing Dumbledore to raise his eye browns and letting his eyes do the talking for him. After a few seconds, Batman started to talk, "First, let's make one thing clear, Professor. I'm here as a free agent but with the unofficial support of the American Department of Magic, if you understand what I mean?"

Now Dumbledore was actually surprised. He had been certain that Batman had to have some contact in the American magical community but this was somewhat unexpected. Still, his smile returned to his face and he nodded while assuring the other man that he was absolutely aware of what this meant.

"Good," growled Batman. "Six days ago Voldemort appeared in Gotham. He broke into the Gotham Museum of Antiquities and stole an ancient Greek vase, which legend has it will release the power of the gods once reunited with its twin."

This certainly made Dumbledore's smile disappeared. "I think I heard of that vase," he said flatly. "Do you know where the other one is?"

"No, but I know somebody who might."

Dumbledore nodded. "Wonder Woman, I assume?" Even the mention of the Amazonian warrior who had appeared out of nowhere a few years ago didn't crack the Bat's facial armour.

Instead he changed the subject. "As I understand it, Harry Potter is going to have a hearing about his use of a patronus charm in front of a muggle."

Dumbledore nodded, frowning, wondering what kind of information Batman could have had on that issue.

"If I were you, I'd keep my eyes and ears open within the Ministry," Batman warned cryptically.

"I'm already well aware of that," replied Dumbledore with a knowing smile. "How will we be in touch?"

"Meet me again tomorrow night, here again, alone," Batman said before walking out from under the bridge and disappearing into the night. Dumbledore looked after him for a moment before disapparating into thin air.


End file.
